Some days, Kaito just wanted to disappear. Not in a dramatic way he didn't want anyone to cry or chase after him. He just wanted to vanish, quietly. Like dust. Like something people forgot was ever there.
It was lunchtime. The classroom was loud, packed with chairs scraping, wrappers opening, shoes thumping against the floor. People gathered in groups, laughing at stuff that didn't matter. Kaito sat alone near the back, pretending not to care.
He stared down at the plain sandwich he brought—egg and cheese. It was warm now. Gross. Still, he took a bite. Not because he was hungry, but because eating gave him something to do. Something to make it look like he belonged.
Nobody looked at him. That was normal.
Once, he was someone they noticed. Back in his first year, Kaito was the top player on the basketball team. Fast, confident, loud. People actually said his name back then. Teachers smiled at him. Girls waved. He had friends. He had a reason to wake up early.
Then he tore his ACL.
Just like that, he was gone—from the court, from their group chats, from everything. His so-called friends stopped texting after the first month. "Bro, you'll be back in no time," they said. That time never came.
"Move it," someone muttered as they passed behind him.
A boy bumped into Kaito's chair. No apology. He didn't even turn to look.
Kaito blinked, lowered his head. He felt small. Not just physically, but like something inside him had been shrinking for a long time. Some days he could barely look in the mirror. He didn't hate other people, really. He just hated how easy it was for them to move on. To laugh. To be fine.
"Hey, Kai."
Kaito looked up. It was Sora, the guy who used to be his teammate. He had a tray in one hand, smiling like nothing had changed. His hair was messier now, but his energy was the same—loud, confident, untouchable.
"You good, man?" Sora asked.
Kaito nodded once. "Yeah."
"You should come by the gym sometime. Coach still talks about you."
"Cool," Kaito said, forcing a tight smile.
Sora nodded and left. Just like that. Probably didn't mean any of it. Probably just said it because he felt awkward.
Kaito looked at the floor. His fingers pressed into his leg. The same leg that still ached every morning. The leg that ruined everything.
That's when he noticed someone new.
Across the room, sitting by the window, was a girl he hadn't seen before. Short hair, round glasses, headphones on. She was doodling in a sketchpad. Her desk was a mess—erasers, pens, some half-eaten crackers. She looked focused, but peaceful.
Nobody sat near her. Nobody bothered her.
For some reason, Kaito couldn't stop watching.
He didn't know her name, but something about her felt familiar. Not in a literal way—more like… the way you recognize a song even if you don't know the lyrics. She wasn't pretty in the usual way. But there was something about her—like she didn't care what people thought. Like she'd already figured out stuff he was still trying to understand.
"Hey, Kaito."
Another voice.
This time it was Emi. She sat beside him once in English class. Kind, soft-spoken. Her hair was tied back, and she held a small juice box in her hand.
"You're eating lunch here again?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yeah. Habit."
She looked at him for a second. "You okay?"
He shrugged. "I'm fine."
"You don't have to pretend all the time, you know."
Kaito looked at her, a little surprised. Emi gave a gentle smile, then returned to her desk. Just like that.
He looked out the window. It was starting to drizzle. The kind of rain that didn't bother people but still made you feel something.
For a long time, Kaito had believed no one saw him. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe some people still did.
And maybe just maybe this wasn't the end of his story
Some days, Kaito just wanted to disappear. Not in a dramatic way he didn't want anyone to cry or chase after him. He just wanted to vanish, quietly. Like dust. Like something people forgot was ever there.
It was lunchtime. The classroom was loud, packed with chairs scraping, wrappers opening, shoes thumping against the floor. People gathered in groups, laughing at stuff that didn't matter. Kaito sat alone near the back, pretending not to care.
He stared down at the plain sandwich he brought—egg and cheese. It was warm now. Gross. Still, he took a bite. Not because he was hungry, but because eating gave him something to do. Something to make it look like he belonged.
Nobody looked at him. That was normal.
Once, he was someone they noticed. Back in his first year, Kaito was the top player on the basketball team. Fast, confident, loud. People actually said his name back then. Teachers smiled at him. Girls waved. He had friends. He had a reason to wake up early.
Then he tore his ACL.
Just like that, he was gone—from the court, from their group chats, from everything. His so-called friends stopped texting after the first month. "Bro, you'll be back in no time," they said. That time never came.
"Move it," someone muttered as they passed behind him.
A boy bumped into Kaito's chair. No apology. He didn't even turn to look.
Kaito blinked, lowered his head. He felt small. Not just physically, but like something inside him had been shrinking for a long time. Some days he could barely look in the mirror. He didn't hate other people, really. He just hated how easy it was for them to move on. To laugh. To be fine.
"Hey, Kai."
Kaito looked up. It was Sora, the guy who used to be his teammate. He had a tray in one hand, smiling like nothing had changed. His hair was messier now, but his energy was the same—loud, confident, untouchable.
"You good, man?" Sora asked.
Kaito nodded once. "Yeah."
"You should come by the gym sometime. Coach still talks about you."
"Cool," Kaito said, forcing a tight smile.
Sora nodded and left. Just like that. Probably didn't mean any of it. Probably just said it because he felt awkward.
Kaito looked at the floor. His fingers pressed into his leg. The same leg that still ached every morning. The leg that ruined everything.
That's when he noticed someone new.
Across the room, sitting by the window, was a girl he hadn't seen before. Short hair, round glasses, headphones on. She was doodling in a sketchpad. Her desk was a mess—erasers, pens, some half-eaten crackers. She looked focused, but peaceful.
Nobody sat near her. Nobody bothered her.
For some reason, Kaito couldn't stop watching.
He didn't know her name, but something about her felt familiar. Not in a literal way—more like… the way you recognize a song even if you don't know the lyrics. She wasn't pretty in the usual way. But there was something about her—like she didn't care what people thought. Like she'd already figured out stuff he was still trying to understand.
"Hey, Kaito."
Another voice.
This time it was Emi. She sat beside him once in English class. Kind, soft-spoken. Her hair was tied back, and she held a small juice box in her hand.
"You're eating lunch here again?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yeah. Habit."
She looked at him for a second. "You okay?"
He shrugged. "I'm fine."
"You don't have to pretend all the time, you know."
Kaito looked at her, a little surprised. Emi gave a gentle smile, then returned to her desk. Just like that.
He looked out the window. It was starting to drizzle. The kind of rain that didn't bother people but still made you feel something.
For a long time, Kaito had believed no one saw him. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe some people still did.
And maybe just maybe this wasn't the end of his story